


The First Time I Saw You Cry, You Were Hiding In An Elevator

by That_Girl_Who_Is_WAY_Too_Cheerful



Category: IT Crowd
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26120710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Girl_Who_Is_WAY_Too_Cheerful/pseuds/That_Girl_Who_Is_WAY_Too_Cheerful
Summary: Set before Jen's arrival, Moss pines after Roy, Roy is in denial of his feelings for Moss, and Roy has a fever.(Kind of a prequel to "I'm Fine!")
Relationships: Maurice Moss & Roy Trenneman, Maurice Moss/Roy Trenneman
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	The First Time I Saw You Cry, You Were Hiding In An Elevator

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged this kinda weird because they're pining but they're not dating and it's all a bit odd, I'm so sorry.
> 
> If you liked this, be sure to check out my other fics!

If you asked him, Roy Trenneman would not be able to explain what he was doing at work that day. He'd awkwardly stammer something about not wanting to miss work, but it would not be hard to tell that he was lying. No, truth be told, Roy could not explain what had made him drag himself out of bed, down some painkillers, and make his way down to Reynholm Industries. 

But here he stood. Ready to walk into the basement and pretend to be fine. 

Because he didn't want to appear weak. 

Because of Maurice Moss, the coworker that... well, Roy didn't like to think about Moss too much.

"Hullo!" Moss grinned at him, greeting him the same way he had when Roy had arrived in the basement the first time. He'd quickly taken to calling the boy by his last name, 'Maurice' was far too stuffy for an IT technician. 

"Hi," Roy smiled back. Weird, smiling wasn't something he'd ever been particularly fond of. Unless it was at a girl. Roy didn't mind that. 

"We've had two calls already this morning! Your turning it on and off again trick is very handy, I haven't had to go up at all." 

Roy nodded at him, wondering how he was meant to respond to that. Something about Moss made it very difficult for him to talk 'normally'. 

"It's awfully cold down here." He remarked. 

"Is it? I thought it was warm." Moss looked up from his computer. 

"O-oh..." Roy shrugged, sitting down at his desk with a sigh. God, when were those painkillers going to kick in? 

*** 

"Hello? Anyone down here?" A girl poked your head around the door. Moss took one look at her and began to shuffle blank sheets of paper, shooting a distressed look at Roy. 

"What are you after?" He asked. 

"Computer stopped working. Can you come and check it out?" 

"Yeah, sure." He got up and followed her out. 

***

"Are you okay?" 

"Yes, why do you ask?" Roy looked up from the computer he was working on. 

"Well that's the fifth time you've stopped to cough, and you've only been up here for two minutes." The girl, who Roy had conveniently neglected to ask her name, stated. 

"Ah... no, I'm fine. So's your computer." He stepped back. 

"Oh, good, thanks." She sat down at the desk, concern for Roy forgotten.

***

"Thanks for doing that, Roy." 

"No problem." Roy sat down, coughing into his elbow. 

"It's nearly lunchtime, are you going out?" 

"Er...um..." Dammit, what was wrong with him? Moss was just making polite conversation, and here he was, stammering like an idiot. 

"Well, are you?" 

Roy considered this for a moment. On one hand, he wasn't at all hungry, and after walking up the stairs with the girl from earlier, not keen to move in the slightest. But on the other hand, the painkillers from earlier had worn off, and he hadn't thought to bring any with him to work. Although maybe that in itself was reason to stay put - his entire body was aching now.

"Uh... no. I don't think so." He mumbled, fighting back a coughing fit.

"Oh, okay." Moss looked slightly disappointed. Luckily, he was quickly distracted by the phone ringing. 

Roy shut his eyes, wondering when his headache would go away. Of course, he only intended for it to be a moment, but when he opened them again, he found Moss standing in front of him, looking worried. 

"I think you have a fever." 

"What?" Roy stared at him for a moment, before his words sunk in. "No, I'm fine!" He jumped up then, feeling hot tears prickling in the back of his eyes. Oh god, no, not in front of Moss, he thought desperately. Pushing past his coworker, he managed to make it into the elevator before his legs gave way and he sunk to the floor, head in his hands. 

He was safe here, he decided. The elevator had been seemingly installed broken, and there was no way Moss would follow him, anyway. 

Why had he come into work today? He berated himself. Crying was not at all manly, and surely Moss would think him weak now, and he'd stop talking to him, and... 

Roy stopped thinking then, as he felt tears trickling through his fingers. 

He was pathetic.

"Roy? Roy, I know you're in there." Moss knocked against the door, frantically pressing the open button. "Are you okay? I think you need to-" the doors finally opened, and he rushed inside. "Roy, come on, come sit on the couch and I'll find a first aid kit somewhere and-" 

"I'm f-fine, M-moss. Y-you don't n-n-need to do that." Roy hated how trembly he was. Stupid fever. 

"You're crying." 

“I fucking know that.” Roy rubbed at his face with his sleeve furiously. 

“Do you need to go ho-”

“No. Nope. I’m fine.”

“You already said that. Please come and sit on the couch, if you’re not going home.” Secretly, Moss was relieved that Roy didn’t want to leave. 

“Mm.” Roy dragged himself up off the floor. “I’d rather stay here.” Moss could see why - the man looked as though he might fall to the ground at any moment. Before he could consider the potential consequences of his actions, he found himself stepping into the elevator and sliding his arm under Roy’s.

“I don’t want you to fall.” He explained when Roy gave him a confused look. Or maybe it was a grateful look. Moss had never been very good at reading facial expressions. He felt himself blushing. “Come on.” 

***

After what seemed like a lifetime to Roy, they finally made it to the couch.

“You’re warm.” The words fell from Roy’s mouth before he could stop them. 

“You have a fever.” Moss responded, moving away from the boy, “We need to bring it down, not make it worse.” 

“But I’m cold.” Roy grabbed Moss’ arm, “Please don’t leave.” 

“You have a fever.” Moss stated again, much in the same way someone would say ‘You’re drunk.’ He pulled away from Roy and began to examine the office, wondering what would bring Roy’s temperature down. “You should try to sleep, I suppose.” 

***

There was no paper towel in the office, Moss concluded after ten or so minutes. Roy seemed to have fallen silent, having spent most of the ten minutes alternating between coughing and crying. 

Moss felt like crying himself, honestly. It had been a long twenty minutes, he thought, sighing. 

It was odd to see Roy cry. Roy who was so carefree and careless - and, Moss sighed,  _ perfect _ . (But decidedly straight, his mind added. Desperate for a girlfriend and intent on finding one for Moss, too. After the first few attempts, Moss had considered telling him he was gay. But they hadn't known each other long then - and besides, not even his mother knew that.) Shaking his head, as if to clear his thoughts, he walked away from the kitchenette. Behind him, Roy was watching him through tired eyes. 

“Are… um… are you feeling okay?” When Roy didn’t respond, Moss felt his heart rate quicken. “Roy?” 

“Hmm?” Roy seemed to snap out of his passive state then. “I’m fine.” 

"I'm going upstairs to look for a first aid kit with a thermometer." Moss turned to leave, before turning back. "Er… will you be alright?" 

"Yes, Moss, I'll be fine." At least he was no longer crying, which was surely a good thing, Moss concluded. He made his way up the stairs, trying to recall what his mother did when he had a fever.

***

"Please drink it." Moss pushed the water bottle into Roy's hands for what seemed like the hundredth time. Roy stubbornly pushed it back. 

"I'm not thirsty, and anyway, I don't need you fussing over me, I'm fine." 

"You passed out when you tried to get up from the couch without my help only 10 minutes ago." Moss bit his lip, "And you've been crying, you need to rehydrate." 

"I have not been crying."

"You have too." Moss resisted the urge to poke his tongue out, instead unscrewing the lid of the bottle. "And if you don't drink it, I'll pour it on your head. And it's cold." Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea, he mused, it'd certainly help with the fever. 

"Okay, okay, fine." Roy grabbed it and took a sip. "Happy now?" 

"I'd be happier if you drunk more, but yes." 

Roy shrugged, taking another sip. Moss smiled slightly - the man definitely looked better than he had earlier. He leaned over and put his hand against Roy's forehead. He squeaked, and moved away from Moss. 

"What're you doing!?" 

"Checking your temperature. I couldn't find a thermometer." 

"Ooh. Right." 

"You're not as warm." Moss smiled, "That's good." The phone rang then, and he went upstairs, leaving Roy alone on the couch. 

Alone with his thoughts. 

*** 

The couch was a pretty boring place without Moss, Roy decided. Despite his protesting, however, he had to admit the water had helped - not with his headache, or general 'everywhere ache' - but he was alert now, and not crying. Not that he had been crying, absolutely not.

God, Moss would surely think he was the biggest loser now. 

But he was looking after him. That was nice. 

The phone was ringing. That was less nice. He reached over to Moss' desk and grabbed it.

"Hello, IT? Have you tried turning it on and off again?" 

"Yes, I tried that. It's gone blue. I'm up on eighth, could you come and check it out?" 

Roy sighed. 

"Yeah, sure. I'll be up in a moment." 

*** 

By the fourth flight of stairs, Roy was regretting not having waited for Moss to return. But he wasn't unconscious yet. He was fine. Nevermind that he was very out of breath, and that his legs were shaking, and that really, it wasn't going to be long before he was on the floor. 

But he was going to get to eighth first. 

*** 

"Hey, IT?" One of the office girls approached Moss. 

"I'm busy with this one now but I can fix yours when I'm done. Have you tried turning it on and off again?" 

"No, no, not my computer. Your mate is out in the corridor, he doesn't look so great. Just thought I'd let-" She didn't get to finish as Moss rushed past her. 

"Roy!" 

"Moss? What're you…" 

"I'm taking you home." 

"But 'm fine, Moss, see? I walked up…" He swayed on his feet, leaning heavily against the wall.

"Six flights of stairs. You probably made your fever worse." Moss shook his head, "Really, Roy, you-" He stopped, deciding that telling the man off now was probably not the best idea. He ran through a list of things to say next in his head. “How did you get to work?” That would have to do. 

“Rode my bike... Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“No reason.” Moss responded. Thank god that his mum hadn’t dropped him off. He had the car. “Do you think you can walk back down or should I…” 

“Mmm…” 

“You didn’t even let me finish.” Moss sighed. “You’re going to have to walk.” 

"But the girl on eighth! Her computer…. Her computer is  _ blue _ , Moss. I have to go fix it!" 

"I will fix it. But you need to go home." 

"Blue, Moss!" Clearly, Roy was losing it, Moss decided. Blue screens were the most common issue that they dealt with. 

And yet tears were welling in his eyes. 

"Blue!" He repeated. 

"Fine, Roy. We can go fix it. Then you're going home."

"Thank you…" Roy tried to take a step forward, falling into Moss' arms. 

"Please stay upright."

"Warm." Roy mumbled into Moss' chest. 

"Actually, I'm just going to take you home." Moss looked down at Roy, wondering if there was anything else he needed to ask. He knew where Roy lived, so not that. "Is there anything in the basement that you need?" 

"You're not in the basement." 

"What was that?" 

"I have my keys here." Roy stepped back from Moss, managing to stay on his feet. 

Keys. Of course! Moss would have to go back down to the basement, anyway. 

"I need mine. You can't ride home." 

"Mm, s'pose not…" 

***

"Roy, I was gone for thirty seconds." 

"I kn-kno-owww." Roy sobbed, drawing is knees up to his chest, "M-my he-ead h-h-hurts. A-a-and…" He trailed off, considering his words. "N-neverm-mind."

"Can you stand?" Roy nodded slowly, pushing himself off the couch, tears still dripping down his face.

"You d-don't ha-ave to look a-after me." He took the hand Moss was offering. 

"You're my…" Moss searched for a word to describe his relationship with Roy. Coworker? Crush? Object of affection? "Friend." 

"T-tha-anks." Roy ran his other hand over his face, wiping away most of his tears. "S-sorry, you m-must th-think I'm p-pathetic." 

"Not at all." Moss smiled at him softly, "Come on, let's get you home." 

**Author's Note:**

> I just realised that one of the office girls refers to Roy as Moss' "mate" and that's probably not a very British thing, oops, my Australian-ness is showing. Hope you liked it anyway!


End file.
